


Walking

by aztecwarfareandcrumping



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Walking, just a really weird thing that came to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aztecwarfareandcrumping/pseuds/aztecwarfareandcrumping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House reflects on the distinctive gaits of his colleagues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know with this one. I just had a lot of feels.

Each person walked differently. Not just the physical activity of their walks (House smiled as he thought of Chase striding along like Cuddy, hips waggling and heels clicking) but the way they walked in relation to House.

  
Cuddy would walk in front of him or behind him, never beside. If she was in front of him, she wouldn’t look back until they reached where they were going. Then she’d turn and give him this look that said, “Please don’t screw up too badly.” Then she’d turn back around with a flip of her hair and enter the room. If she was behind him, it was because she was trying to get him to do something. Then he wouldn’t look back, though he could tell she had a pleading look on her face.

Foreman walked behind and to the side of him, almost like that respectful distance you kept with royalty. It was clearly the lowly foot soldier awaiting orders from his superior. House would tilt his head back now and again to make sure he was still following (physically and mentally), but they would stay in that position till they arrived.

Chase also walked behind and to the side of him, but with less distance. It was more the son following his dad at work sort of distance, walking in the wake of the older doctor in awe. House knew Chase hadn’t had a father figure growing up, and he knew with an uncomfortable certainty that Chase was trying to fill the void with him. House ridiculed him, gave him a hard time, hoped the young doctor would find someone else to worship, but the young Australian always followed at his elbow, pleading (metaphorically, of course) for acceptance.

Cameron, while not physically standing any closer than Chase, made House feel suffocated. Her aura was crushing his aura (or that’s what he always said when he was complaining to Wilson). You could practically feel the unrequited love rolling off of her in waves. As much as House hated Chase’s hero worship of him, he decided that unrequited love was much worse.

Then there was Wilson. The one person who walked right next to him. The only person who wanted to walk right next to him. The only person who he allowed to walk right next to him. Because of the slight sophisticated swagger of Wilson’s walk and the loping gait House had to keep because of his cane, their shoulders would bump into each other with every second step. Step, bump, step, bump, step, bump in a comfortable rhythm. Half the time the backs of their hands were practically brushing. Wilson would keep up with House’s brisk stride, perfectly in time. They didn’t need to look at each other while they walked: each knew the other had their full attention.

House didn’t know why he was thinking about walking.

Maybe because it was the one thing he couldn’t do properly.


End file.
